I’m writing this post with mixed emotions. Surely you’ve seen at least a part of my journey from rose-gold to platinum hair (and stuck around for my many musings along the way). This past week I realized I had not one, but two sets of roots, first being my natural color, and second being the “fake” roots that were created to soften my platinum blonde at my last color appointment. All I can say is that almost two months later, my hair was the equivalent of Neopolitan ice cream (although fortunately it did not correspond with the white, pink and brown colors).
When I got to my appointment, I was hell bent on going dark and starting over. But I kind of wanted to live with brown hair for a short while before starting to add the highlights. Well, my idea was shot down by my super-colorist, Alex. After almost 5 years, she knows me, and she can actually say no to me. So after lowlighting my entire head (and adding just a few highlights to the front), my hair is back to “normal.” My mom loves it, my 5-year-old son said, “Oh good, Mommy. You don’t have white hair anymore.” And I’m depressed.
I never realized how much I used my hair as an extension of my personality. Yes, I fit into the suburban pick up, drop off, food shopping, errand running Mommy box. But I’m always at least a little bit outside of that box. And so I’ve learned that “normcore” apparently isn’t my thing. So now I’m thinking about getting a tattoo…
P.S. I know that the super-porous state of my hair at the moment means that color can be washed out of hair pretty quickly (which is why limited washing with sulfate-free shampoo is recommended). But it’s possible that I may have washed my hair three times in the past 2 days…
